


Never Tell Me The Odds

by JustALittleBitOfYou



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene, Piano, Sickening Fluff, This Is STUPID, Too much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:08:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustALittleBitOfYou/pseuds/JustALittleBitOfYou
Summary: Eliott and Lucas have a night together, and Lucas finally gets his piano song.





	Never Tell Me The Odds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this fic was asked by some dear friends of mine... I don't know how good this is, but whatever.   
> This was approved by the spiritual child of Tristan Tzara, so any mistake is actually made on purpose (this isn't true, of course -please forgive my English, it's not my first language). 
> 
> To those friends that will fortunately recognize themselves, one month and one day later, this is for you.

It’s been a long time since they had the chance to have a night for themselves, with Lucas’ final exam and their friends dragging them to random parties. So tonight, Eliott had went  out of his way to make sure that everything was perfect. “It will perfect anyways with you there”, Lucas had said. But nothing could have convinced the older boy not to put everything he had in this night ("Body and soul", once again). Eliott had went and bought roses and dandelions, had found an old Jeff Buckley vinyl at his parent’s, and had even crossed all of Paris to find religieuses at this special bakery Lucas loves so much. 

And up until now, the night had been perfect. Eliott had only burnt half of the pork (caramel flavored, cause salty and sugary is mandatory for Eliott -because "you need contrast in your life" and "no, Lucas, this is not a PONI, I know what I'm doing") and the peas and rice were at least edible, and Lucas had almost (almost) teared up while eating the pastry. “Shut up, its delicious”, he had said while munching, feigning offense, as his boyfriend had laughed at his antics. “You’re such a drama queen”, he had answered, voice laced with affection. Lucas had huffed and ignored him, going back to eating the chocolate heaven. After that, they had both moved (crawled) to the couch, and had peacefully read for a while, Lucas a Zola novel ( _Germinal_ , or the story of how a strike is never a good idea, thanks Emile), and Eliott the _Saturnian Poems_  by Verlaine, on which he had an essay due in four days. He couldn't possibly hand it late, as he had already been kind of targeted by his teacher when he had evoked the "possible" romance between Verlaine and Rimbaud. "They were _friends_ , M. Demaury", the teacher had answered, to which he had laughed, and now said teacher had him in her bad graces. Lucas had told him he should go and apologize to get rid of her, Eliott had answered that he _couldn't_ let her claim that Rimbaud and Verlaine were friendly, that otherwise all hell would break loose. Lucas had shaken his head, amused. 

 

It was dark now. Lucas was still sprawled on his boyfriend chest, his left hand smoothing the wrinkles on his shirt, his right one softly combing through his (silken) hair. His head was pillowed on the other boy's chest, right above his heart, and Lucas loved this. Loved hearing the steady heartbeat, or how it picked up sometimes. "Look what you do to me", Eliott had once said, grabbing his boyfriend's hand and putting it on his chest. Lucas had brushed it off, had called him "dramatic", but they both knew how pleased he actually was. It was the same comforting, grounding feeling that he was experimenting now. Eliott was there, sleeping under him, his chest slowly rising and falling. He was there, and he wouldn't leave. It was a miracle, but it was real. Somehow, against all odds, they were together. _Never tell me the odds,_ had Han Solo once said. The odds of them meeting were low, the odds of them falling for each other lower yet, but Lucas didn't want to know the odds. 

At some point, Lucas felt movement under him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked up from his (perfectly cozy) spot and was met by grey eyes staring at him. He smiled before crawling up, meeting his boyfriend in a kiss, his hands still on his chest. 

"What time is it?", Eliott mumbled on his lips, voice still laced with the remains of sleep

"Ten to eleven", the younger one answered quietly so as not to break the peaceful quiet. 

Eliott sighed, big and content, before grabbing Lucas' right hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing his palm. Lucas giggled as his boyfriend softly kissed each of his knuckles. Suddenly, the older boy's face scrunched up and something, like a cloud, passed into his eyes.

"Eliott? What's wrong", Lucas asked, confusion visible on his features.

"That day... At the cafeteria? Your hand was bandaged. You did that at that party, didn't you? At Chloe's?", the other answered, insecurities shining through.

"Eliott..."

"No", he cut his words, shaking his head, frantic. "You did that to yourself. Because of me. Because I let Lucille lure me into believing her. Because I was too scared to..."

"Hey. Listen to me", Lucas said, holding the older boy's face into his hands. "That night was horrible on so many aspects. And yes, one of them was you kissing Lucille after turning me down. Did it break my heart? Yes. Does this mean you're responsible for what I stupidly did? Out of frustration? No. I had fought with the boys, Chloe had said what she said, had shouted it to anyone who wanted to hear it, I had been horrible to Mika, and my family situation was fucked. It was an accumulation of everything. But this is no one's fault but my own. We're responsible for our deeds, Eliott, and we can't blame other people for what we chose to do, even though it may be the result of something. And I did that. Not you”

Eliott smiled, even though it was weak and certainly still perplex, and slowly lowered his head to kiss Lucas. “I wish I could have helped you heal that”, he murmured on his lips.

“You healed this”, the other answered, bringing their linked hands to his own heart. 

They both chuckled, knowing perfectly well how dramatic they were being, not caring a bit. They talked about nothing and everything for a while, just enjoying the quiet intimacy. Around midnight, Lucas heard a vague noise from a neighbor’s house. A music. Star Wars, he recognized quickly. Smiling, he looked up at his dreamy boyfriend and nudged at his hips.

“Hey, you still owe me your spectacular Star Wars Theme”, he joked.

But Eliott’s eyes lit up, a challenge dancing in them. He got up from the couch, earning a yelp when Lucas’ head hit the soft fabric, and went to the piano. Lucas laughed wholeheartedly, shaking his head, finding his boyfriend unbelievable, and stayed tucked into the couch.

“Well go on then, impress me”, he teased.

“Okay then, you asked for it. But let me tell you now, you’re not ready,” the other shot right back, wiggling his eyebrow. He extended his fingers, like a professional pianist, and sat on the chair, straightening his back.

“Could you be any more dramatic?” Lucas chuckled. 

Eliott didn’t answer, just looked behind him and mimicked an offended look at his boyfriend. Then he settled his nimble fingers on the tiles, cleared his throat, and started playing. The music filled his ears. The piano starts and it's soft and safe but also hilarious because Eliott is so serious about this. And Lucas is falling all over again, and it shouldn't be possible, but somehow here he is. At this point he thinks he would have fallen for Eliott even without seeing him, because every single one of his senses are attuned to him. Synesthesia, that's how Baudelaire calls them. Correspondences. Lucas closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him.

Suddenly, he was in another galaxy, where all the stars have the color of Eliott's eyes and he is the ship trying to find his way through the darkness. He is lost in the deep space and the Empire is running after him and he can't see. He thinks he'll lose himself. But the stars are there, they guide him towards the light. Towards life. There is one little spark, and Lucas can't stop going towards it. The stars that save him from the dark.  _Polaris_. The song is over now, has been for a bit, and Eliott has moved on to just playing blasphemies. But it doesn't matter. Lucas is still there. Reaching towards the stars. _Polaris._  

 

And in that moment, him on the couch and Eliott now playing some kids song ("Is that Noddy's theme? Really, Eliott?") Lucas was sure that there was no universe in which they hadn’t found each-other, not even the one where he was signing big contracts with Russian, and not even the one when he was riding a wave in Bali. It's the two of them against the rest of the world, forever. Through time and space. In every universe, it was always Lucas and Eliott. And in some universe, they were probably fighting against the Empire, brandishing their light sabers. In a galaxy, far far away, they still were together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this sugar-coated fic (it's probably terrible). I miss them so much!


End file.
